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“Not living my best life. Living without feeling alive. Without trying the best things in life.”
An almost-smile finds his lips, and I kiss him. “You?” I hope he answers when I pull back. I want to know. Ineedto know.
The pain is back and gone from his eyes so quickly before they ravish my unpierced tit again.
“Goddammit, Gemma... I can never undo this. You... like this, in my home, with me.”
He leans forward and tongues around my nipple in a circle, my nipple rising and flirting back with his mouth. His hand slides down my leggings, and I plant my feet on the floor to remove them along with my socks.
Then I’m all over him again. Because I can’t for one second be away from him. From this. From the way I feel when I’m near him.
I close my eyes, feeling all that he’s doing to me. His hands and his mouth are everywhere. Kissing, touching, sucking—he doesn’t miss a spot.
He brands me with sweet kisses, and I take off his shirt, my mouth dropping.
Becauseabs.
I know he keeps active; I heard Julia, the executive director, talk about martial arts with him. I used to be active. Nowadays, stress keeps me fit, though I did gain a few much-needed pounds.
I tease his nipple, and the smirk on his face could own me mind, body, and soul. I push his hair back farther. He’s so beautiful like this.
At ease and disheveled for me.Byme.
My hands trace every curve of his abdomen. I admire him. His tenacity, his discipline. It takes a lot of it to work as much as he does yet to keep fit as well. He must wake up early or sleep late because of it.
I touch every line, the entire pack. It’s impressive. No wonder ladies at work blush in his presence. Except Marie. Marie would make the best assistant for him because she doesn’t seem fazed by him at all.
“Damon . . . what’s your fear?”
He takes one of my wrists and gently caresses the soft spot underneath. I ask again, pleading with him, but he comes forward instead, grabbing my nape while roughly kissing me.
I’m swirling, swirling around, deep and deep, into the hurricane that is Damon Dreygon.
And I’m terrified. Of the calm after the storm.
Will I be all alone?
I pour each and every one of my feelings into our kiss, clutching onto his hair for dear life. I’m lightly sucking on his tongue; he sucks on mine.
And we go on and on. Giving and taking, giving and taking.
“Ineedyou.” I’m a mess. I’m breathless as I plead for him to be inside me.
It suddenly all comes to me now that I’m past that point. Past the point where I’m willing to sleep with Damon to get what I want, to feel.
To cross the finish line into Cheatertown.
Damon leans back against the fabric of the couch, his hand fingering the inside of my thigh. “You sure you want to do this?”
I eye him. “Are you backing out?” I whisper. “Am I ruining your moral code?”
He kisses my throat. “I’d prefer if you were single, yes.”
“Never had sex with a taken woman?”
He shakes his head, his hand atop one of mine, his fingers roaming through it. “Why complicate life when there’s plenty of eager available women out there?”
I don’t like hearing this, and it shouldn’t affect me. God, it shouldn’t affect me more to hear about this then it does to hear about Harvey kissing Claire!
